I am going to tell a humorous story that revolves around this attached picture. I have a friend that pees in sinks whenever I am with her. The picture to the right is the picture of a sink. Once, I ended up at an after party at a house reminiscent of the house on paper street in fight club. I was sort of fucking impressed that they had running water, but their fridge had been modified into a keg-o-rator. This is what happens when you allow thickheaded men to live together. Anyways, I was walking down the street when this dude walks by and says “Hey, I know you! You’re so-&-so’s friend. You should come to the after party it is on Abbot Kinney & Main!” Because it was after 2am and I live in Los Angeles this invite was as good as any so my friends and I trotted down to said spot and found the party. Everything about this place was filthy and falling apart. I am pretty sure I contracted meningitis from merely walking in the door, but the drinks were free and flowing & the men were relatively good looking. And how I love men. Continuing on, I found myself in the bathroom with Gia and Katie when I came up with the idea to piss in the sink while Gia pissed in the bathtub and Katie in the toilet. We are like proponents of outhouses or something. Regardless, I lean up against the sink to take off my pants and I lose my balance and crash into it. That mere movement jars the molding around the sink loose and it falls off. Somehow no one heard the lightening crash & old mother die–so the three of us begin to scramble to figure out what to do–the end result was shoving the molding around the sink under the sink like fucking retard and slamming the door shut. In the picture, you can see a bottle of scope and the wooden piece of sink jammed on top of everything. You can also see where the sink used to reside. The moral of this story is–do not fuck with shit in the house on paper street unless you are a God and want to be able to send out photos to the world of your destruction handy work. Amen.